


Blood and Loyalty

by orphan_account



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal, Anal Fingering, BDSM, Blowjobs, M/M, PWP, Power Play, Sort of? - Freeform, Trigger Warnings, except not bdsm, handjobs, if you squint there is sort of plot, this is basically a smut story, this is so fucked up, wing!kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-19
Updated: 2015-02-19
Packaged: 2018-03-13 17:29:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,114
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3390119
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Castiel is kidnapped by Crowley, he has no clue what to expect. Turns out, he wakes up in the home of a succubus who has quite the appetite for our blue-eyed angel.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blood and Loyalty

**Author's Note:**

> NOT an accurate representation of a healthy relationship, PLEASE do not read if you're easily triggered.   
> PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE.  
> Also, follow me on tumblr! My URL is MysticMoonhigh. I take fic requests if you like this and have something you'd like written.  
> Marked as 'noncon' to be safe. Cas consents to any touching of his genitalia, unless you count his wings.

The blood and sweat of his comrades lay around him in piles, pooling before his blurry vision. He tried to raise, tried to push himself up and pull his blood-soaked trench coat off the ground, but he felt his arms give out, and blackness threatened to overwhelm his vision.

He fought for a few moments, clinging to that beautiful consciousness, not wanting to die but even more so hating the idea of dying defenseless and laying on the concrete.

Footsteps approached. He tensed, and the blackness threatened his vision yet again. He wasn't stupid. He knew that this was the end of him, that he had better say his prayers now. Castiel didn't kid himself with reassurance that it was going to be okay.

At least this would be a noble death.

The last thing he heard before he blacked out was, “Well, well, look at what we have here!”

~~~

When Castiel next awoke, he was laying on something soft. Something much too soft to have been the ground upon which he had “died”. Slowly, ever so slowly, his eyes opened.

It was a little dark for his tastes. The small, cramped space that he was in was shadowy other than the light filtering in from a small opening in the front, which was just large enough that he could fit his body through it, but covered by a thin, see-through “door”. He knew instinctually that it would open if he pushed on it. The walls outside were painted a bright and cheerful off-white. He wondered briefly if this was his own Angelic heaven.

That thought was quickly chased away as he noticed a collar around his neck. It was made of some sort of metal, and with further inspection from his hands, he found Enochian sigils painstakingly etched into the solid work. His power was bound.

His wings were out next to him, covering his body from the cold. The fact that he was naked echoed as a separate thought, small and honestly unimportant. No, what _was_ important was that his wings would not return to the plane in which they would usually reside. They were stuck awkwardly attached to his body, his blue feathers brushing lightly against the roof of this, this... well, he could only assume it was a _cage._

“He'll be waking up soon. I trust you'll consider this gift worthy of you.” Came a voice. The same voice that had hovered over him as he lay on the ground. It had a thick Scottish accent, and a drawl that made Cas shiver with distaste.

“I never asked for anything. You know the only reason why I'm doing this is because-”

“Yes, yes, your fragile humanity. Dean, the Succubus who exercised self-control. Sorry love, but I'm fresh out of time to hear it. I have business to attend to if I want to continue swaying people over to my side,” He interrupted. Castiel was a little bit glad that he was leaving, even if this “other” could potentially be a threat. “After all, now that I know you won't go against me, I'm that much closer to overthrowing Alistair.”

If they were going to kill him, he just prayed they would do it before they took off his wings. He didn't want to have to lose them before he died. 

“Don't be a bitch, Crowley. Get out of my house.” The other voice said. The man who was apparently 'Crowley', chuckled.

“Alright, alright. I suppose you're going to have your fun with the angel already. Chou.” Crowley announced. Cas heard the opening and shutting of a door, and there was a long pause of excruciating silence as he wondered what was coming next. Would he be pulled out of here by his feathers, and then-

“You can come out now.” The second voice spoke, startling him. “I can smell your fear. I know you're awake.”

Castiel decided that, for now, the best thing to do would be to obey. 

Slowly, he moved out of the small prison. His wings scratched against the door as he forced them out and he let out a small hiss of pain. He came fact to face with a pair of boots.

A scan of his surroundings verified that it was just an average living room. Well, an average,  _lavish_ living room, but a living room still. He scanned over the big screen television and the large, leather couch and the coffee table and the door to the kitchen, all the time keeping his eyes from going up to his captor. When he had finally had assessed his surroundings in a way that he deemed adequate, he looked up into the most beautiful pair of eyes he'd ever seen.

“My name is Dean.” The man said. Castiel simply stared up, refusing to speak. A couple of seconds passed in silence before Dean frowned. “Come on, this isn't getting us anywhere.”

Still, Castiel was silent. Half of him was hoping that he could make Dean mad, could make him get it over with and plunge an angel blade into his belly this second. He knew instinctively that Dean had probably been given his. 

“Alright, then, the strong and silent type. That's fine. As long as you listen to my rules, I have no problem with you keeping whatever the hell it is bottled up. But, and listen to me when I say this, you _really should_ follow my rules.” As he finished speaking, his eyes briefly flickered to red. So, a higher-up demon. Of course, that wasn't all he was. No, there was another energy radiating off of him, almost-

“I'm a succubus.” He announced. Castiel was suddenly very aware of his nudity. “Don't move your wings to hide yourself like that, I'm not going to do anything without your permission.” 

Castiel paused, confused. “You're not?”

“Well, as long as you don't count keeping you here with that collar, no, I'm not.” Dean said, crouching down so that he was on Cas's level. “When I touch your dick, it'll be because you begged for it, not because I have no control.”

Castiel felt his lips pull up into a half-snarl. He would never, could never, allow a vile  _demon_ to put their hands on him by his permission. Whomever this 'Dean' was was obviously sorely mistaken.

Still, knowing that he had no intent of forcing Cas into anything would help to put his mind at ease while he thought of an escape plan.

“However, you _will_ allow me to pet you. Every night, you'll come out of wherever you are, and you'll sit on the couch with me while I watch TV. You aren't going to struggle, pull away, or hurt me. I won't touch anything below the waist, but trust me when I say you'll feel it there. After that, I don't give a damn what you do.” Dean announced. Castiel doubted most of what he said, but nodded his head.

If he wasn't going to be forcibly taken advantage of, there was no harm in obeying what the demon said for now. 

“Alright.” He said, meeting the demon's eyes defiantly. His powers were bound and he could _feel_ the energy radiating off of the demon, making him all the more reluctant to obey, but he knew that any fight would not be one he could win.

“You have a couple of hours until that time. You may want to rest up until then.” Dean mumbled, turning away. Castiel stayed silent, watching him leave with wary eyes.

~~~ 

Two and a half hours later, and there was the sound of a bell. Castiel knew what it meant. He prepared himself mentally for the travel out before he shoved his wings down and squeezed himself through the door of what he assumed to be a large dog house. It was certainly about the right size, giving Cas just enough room to curl up, just enough so that he could be on the verge of comfort but never quite reach it.

At least it wasn't one of the ones that was shaped like an igloo.

As soon as he was out, he looked for Dean. He found him sitting on the couch, his legs spread and his eyes trained on the television. Half of Castiel didn't want to go over there. The other half reminded him that he had to, to put up the illusion that he was bending to Dean's will. 

He stood, walking quickly over to where Dean sat. He awkwardly waited for some kind of instruction, uncertain of what to do in this situation. Dean finally glanced up from the television, eyes meeting Castiel's own. The green seemed a lot less pretty when Cas knew there was red behind it.

A hand came down to pat the couch, and Castiel complied. He sat, eyes following Dean's to the television. He saw sabers of light and battleships, but that was really all he had time to process before Dean spoke to him. 

“Why don't you lay down? Put your head in my lap. It'll make this easier on the both of us.” Dean said. Castiel hated the idea, but at the same time, some small part of him knew that Dean wouldn't go back on his promise by forcing Cas to use his mouth to please him. Which, of course, Cas found confusing. Because demons lied all the time, and why should this one be any different?

He lay down slowly, bringing his feet to rest on the couch. He placed his head in Dean's lap and closed his eyes, concentrating on the sounds of breathing coming from above him. Just an hour like this, and then he could go back to being alone.

He was entirely unprepared for the first touch.

A hand, light and delicate, moved through the hair on his scalp. Immediately, his blood was flowing south, cock beginning to harden at the touch. A touch so delicate, so simple, more affection than desire, and yet he was filling and hardening. The sensation was, altogether, the most confusing thing he had experienced in awhile.

That's when it clicked. Dean was a  _succubus_ . Without using his powers, Castiel couldn't fight off the urges of his body.

The hand dipped a little bit lower, fingers lightly swooping over his neck, and Castiel let out a shudder. Dean made a small noise of comfort, a small hum as he brought his hand back up to Cas's hair and began again. Fingers carded lovingly through the strands, causing bolts of hot want to shoot straight up his cock, and he fought off a moan.

Every single caress was as if Dean was slowly and skillfully pumping his dick. It wasn't long until Castiel thought that that actually may be preferable, more than this feeling of longing streaking it's course through his body and making his cock throb. He was achingly hard and pressing against his stomach in minutes.

Half an hour into it, he caught his hips uselessly giving small thrusts, and his head leaning into Dean's hand. Dean lovingly trailed a hand up his wing and through the feathers, and Cas finally let out a small whimper. Dean smiled a little in response, his fingers working through the feathers and digging into them, causing even more small and half-restrained sounds to fall from Cas's lips.

He was leaking precum everywhere. The urge to touch himself was becoming almost too much, and yet he fought it tooth and nail. His cock throbbed, his hips ached, for the first time he felt  _empty_ , as though there should be something inside of him where there wasn't. His skin was hot and his cock was on fire. 

“You can let go, you know. You shouldn't be embarrassed. I've made people cum from less.” Dean said, letting a small chuckle fall from his lips. 

“G-Go to hell,” Cas snarled, even as his wings twitched wider to give Dean better access. Dean scoffed.

“How do you think I got this way, baby?” He questioned, giving a particularly rough squeeze to Cas's feathers. Cas felt a heat beginning to pool in his stomach, and he almost couldn't fight it. Glancing at the clock, he saw that he only had five minutes left.

Surely he could hang on for that long? There was no way he was so weak that he couldn't. No matter how  _full_ his dick felt, no matter how much precum was leaking in a steady stream from the tip, no matter how much he wanted to grab himself and rut into his own hand, spill all over the couch crying Dean's name out, he wouldn't. 

No, he would be strong.

Except, he  _couldn't_ .

“You're so strong, angel. Most would have given up by now.” Dean told him, a second hand moving to start in his other wing. Castiel let out a low, drawn out moan that shouldn't have come out. “You deserve your release, now. You know I won't judge you for it.”

With his final word, Dean's hands carded through his feathers at an almost inhumanly fast rate. Castiel felt his manhood swell up, and like a rubber band that had been stretched too far, his self-control snapped.

He let out a cry as he came, long white spurts coating his stomach and the couch. It felt like it went on forever; his cock pumping out and Dean's fingers continuing to card through his feathers, drawing it out. His vision went black briefly and his bones felt like jelly, dick still twitching uselessly as it slowly began to soften. 

When he could hear again, Dean was speaking. 

“\- a good job, angel.” He praised. “You can go back to your house now, if you'd like.”

Castiel forced his limbs to move, forced himself to get up and his legs to let him stand. He shot a glare at Dean, who had a large bulge in his pants that he was dutifully ignoring. 

“You're a disgusting, vile pervert.” He spat, anger at himself and Dean intermingling. Because he should have been stronger and Dean shouldn't have touched his sensitive wings, and everything still felt good and he should not have enjoyed that. 

“Sorry, but I sort of have to be.” Dean said, smiling a wicked smile. Cas turned and stalked away, determined to find a way out of this before their next “session”.

~~~ 

A week later, and he still had nothing.

Every night he crawled up with Dean, every night he came in long, hot white spurts. Twice, Dean had cum with him, making a mess out of whatever he was wearing at the time. Castiel felt sick at himself when he felt pride at seeing Dean's cum stain through his pants.

Nothing had come up. Not a single way to escape had occurred to him, and he was losing more and more self control by the day. If last night's session had gone on any longer than it had, he would have been begging Dean for his hands on his dick, in his ass,  _anywhere_ to bring him to the orgasm he'd felt he needed like air.

He wondered if one could become addicted to the lure and pleasure of a succubus, and he hoped not. Because if they could, he was most definitely headed down that path. 

Even his dreams had begun to fill with Dean; Dean's lips wrapped around his cock, Dean's hands slowly running up and down his body, Dean bending him over and slowly entering him as Cas panted and called out in want-

The pillow on the floor of the dog house had been washed several times in the past few days.

The sound of a bell pulled him out of his thoughts. His dick began to rise just from the thought of what was to come, and he quickly switched his thought path to avoid embarrassment. 

He crawled out, his wings scraping against the wood barely bothering him at this point, and continued to crawl over to Dean. Once he was there, he lay his head in Dean's lap and spread his wings out automatically, knowing what was coming.

After a few moments of silence, Dean spoke. “Sit up.” 

Castiel did so, a little bit confused. Why was Dean asking this of him? Did he have something different planned? 

“Dean?” He asked, tentatively. 

“You've done enough for this week. I feed off of sexual energies, and you cumming has been more than enough. Tonight, we're just gonna watch something together.” Dean promised. Cas paused.

“You've been... Feeding off of my energies? I don't understand. When succubus's do that don't the victims usually...?” Cas questioned, suddenly feeling a little afraid. What if Dean's plan all along was to slowly kill him by draining his-

“Not angels.” Dean said, looking a little uncomfortable with the topic. “Humans, yes. Other demons? Gone. But angels are meant for lots of things, and sex isn't one of them. It doesn't overwhelm your bodies like it does humans or demons or werewolves. I can absorb energy from you and not have to kill anyone.” He mumbled, looking down. 

Suddenly, everything clicked.

That was why Dean was keeping him here. That was why he was bringing Cas to an earth-shattering climax every night, he was  _feeding off of him so that he didn't have to kill anyone else_ . Crowley, the day that Cas had been brought here, said something about Dean's 'fragile humanity'. Dean didn't  _want_ to have to kill.

“Oh.” Castiel said, nodding his head a little. In his mind, he knew that what they were doing now wouldn't be able to hold Dean over forever. Eventually, he would have to have actual sex. But, for now, Dean was trying his hardest to make this work. After a few seconds, he said, “Castiel.”

“Hm?”

“My name is Castiel.”

Cas wouldn't let him kill another person just because he wanted to be stubborn about wanting him.

~~~ 

The next day when Dean called for him, the hunger in his eyes had grown. He looked ready to sink his teeth into something, and Cas almost shivered with the knowledge of what he was about to do. 

His cock filled with blood at the first touch, the ache beginning to build something both beautiful and awful in his bones. The want reached over him and curled around him in tendrils, grabbing hold and forcing his hips to rut at air sooner than he would have liked.

Twenty minutes into it, he decided that he had had quite enough of the small, pampering touches that Dean was pressing into his feathers and skin. He turned on his back, eyes staring up lustfully into Dean's. He wouldn't fight it, this urge, any longer.

“Touch me.” He commanded, voice more steady than he felt. Dean's eyes widened in surprise, but he could see the lust, the hunger, intensify. 

“I need you to be specific. I won't do this if you don't want to.” Dean said, his voice dropping into a rough growl. His eyes flickered back to Cas's throbbing shaft, and Cas let out a moan.

“Please, touch my dick. I need your hands on me, god, I need-” He was cut off with a loud cry as Dean surged forward, one hand grabbing Cas's dick and the other snaking underneath his thigh, pulling him up so that he was closer to Dean. His ass was nestled firmly against Dean's clothed erection and his elbows were used to hold himself up, pushing against the arm of the couch so that he could watch what Dean was about to do.

Dean's thumb came up to  _slowly_ swipe over his head, setting Cas's nerves on edge. He smeared precum along the shaft and began to pump, hand refusing to move any faster than it had when he was stroking up and down Cas's bare skin. This sweet, sweet torture had Cas's hips canting and toes curling as he watched Dean work.

He couldn't control himself; he ground his hips downwards onto Dean's length, body heating even more at the gruttle moan that left the man's throat. “God, just like that.”

Cas continued to grind down, his fire building as Dean's hand sped up it's pumping. He passed a thumb over the tip and Cas felt himself tremble, even more so than he did when Dean flicked his wrist and sent sparks of sensation up his spine. God, he wanted to hear more of those moans, wanted-

His thoughts short-circuited when Dean was pressing sloppy kisses up and down his neck, latching on occasionally and sucking. One of Cas's hands went to run through his hair and keep him there while he ground down faster, hoping that the feeling would make Dean lose control and bite him, mark him as his, leave him trembling and breathless and  _knowing_ it would happen again and again.

Finally his dick pulsed in Dean's hand, exploding seamen all over the two of them and leaving him panting. He kept grinding down until he was finally done, and about halfway through his orgasm, (were they supposed to last this long? Maybe it was a succubus thing) he felt Dean's own dick swell and release. 

Dean moaned against his neck and his hips gave their own quick bunch of thrusts upwards. His teeth bit down and Cas relished the pain, hoping that there would be a large, beautiful mark to show for this. 

~~~ 

The next time Dean felt “full”, Cas decided to ask a question.

“How?” He asked, settled into the couch. Dean's hand lay on his thigh and his dick was acting up, but it wasn't too bad. It was worth it, for the non-sexual contact. Dean turned towards him, question in his eyes. “How did you become a demon?”

Dean's eyes fell to the floor, and he cleared his throat. “A long time ago, I had a brother. A brother I loved more than anything. He had a bright future. He, uh, got taken out in the civil war, and I sold my soul to protect him, so he could come back and live his life. Believe it or not, ten years later my ass was on fire. And I do mean literally.” He said.

“Oh.” Cas responded, because that was all he could think to say. 

“'Oh' is right.” Dean confirmed, meeting his eyes briefly. “Once I had black eyes, I had no remorse. I wanted to get up top and hunt down the demon that had done my crossroads deal for revenge. There aren't many ways to get up top, but “specializing” is one of them.” He explained.

“And one of the jobs that gets an immediate ticket upstairs is, you guessed it, a succubus. Because nobody wants a sex demon running around downstairs seducing all of the good torturers. No, they would prefer you sending back souls to be shredded.” Dean said, darkly. Castiel listened intently.

“Once my humanity started to come back, I realized what I was doing. I had killed the demon who killed me, but I had also killed a lot of innocent people along the way. My brother died while I was there, and it really sobered me up.”

“So, now I'm known as the demon with a conscience.” He finished with bravado. His thumb made little circles on Cas's thigh, and Cas looked down at it, mesmerized by the way it moved against his slightly tanned skin.

“I'm sorry you had to go through that.” Cas mumbled. Dean looked into his eyes, and he felt a little piece of himself get lost in them.

Suddenly, they were kissing. It was chaste, as kisses with demons go, with just the right amount of affection and lust mixed in to make Cas absolutely dizzy. As soon as Dean pulled away Cas was leaning forward to kiss him again, tongue slipping into his mouth and exploring everywhere.

Eventually, they were laying down on the couch, Cas's wings twitching in excitement as his dick stood proudly upwards. His hands worked to move Dean's shirt off his head, and he was panting into Dean's mouth like a dog who had just ran a mile in the sun.

“Please, Dean, I want to do something.” He begged, and found that it was true. He wasn't a hundred percent sure when it had happened, but he had stopped thinking about escape. He had stopped going back into the dog house immediately after Dean made him cum. He had started to look forward to their time, to the small talks they had afterwards. Cas _liked_ this. 

“Cas, are-” He was cut off by Cas's lips hot on his own. “Are you sure?”

“ _Yes._ ” He hissed, finally getting Dean's shirt off of his head. 

His hands immediately dropped to Dean's pants, unbuttoning them and sliding the zipper down, every notch of the teeth causing Cas's anticipation to rise. As soon as he had Dean's long, thick member wrapped in his hand, he shuddered, letting out a moan at the feeling.

He wasn't quite sure what he was doing, but he shoved Dean's pants down far enough that he could press their aching cocks together, and Dean let him. He began a slow and steady pace as Dean's tongue delved into his mouth, trying to make himself last for Dean's sake. 

The feeling of hot skin against hot skin, Dean's heavy and hard member gliding against his own, slicked by sweat and precum, was the hottest thing that Cas had ever experienced, to that day. Every single time Dean touched his arm or his side, light and tentative touches, Cas briefly lost control and rutted against him faster.

“God, Cas, you're so beautiful.” Dean said, his own hips beginning to cant and thrust in time with Cas's. Castiel let out a long moan, burying his face in Dean's neck to hide his blush. 

Dean's hands came up to thread through Cas's hair, keeping him there.

“Bite me, Cas. Mark me up. I know you want to.” He hissed, hips moving in motions that were just a little rougher. Castiel let out a moan at the idea.

Dean could be  _his,_ everyone who looked at Dean would know that they had been together, that Dean was smitten with someone else. They would know that Cas had made him squirm and saw him cum, and that idea was pretty damn appealing.

Cas tentatively licked Dean's neck, and Dean let out a long groan. Cas matched it with a small stutter in his hips, holding himself back from going any faster with every ounce of self control that he had. He slowly latched onto Dean's neck, lavishly sucking there. Dean's dick twitched against his own, so he unlatched and moved a few inches, repeating the process.

He didn't stop until Dean was absolutely covered in the small bruises, moaning and squirming and sweating beneath him. Cas knew that logically he shouldn't be able to affect Dean the way that Dean affected him, but this was the closest he had ever come to actually feeling like he did. 

That odd sort of pride and sense of  _belonging_ filled him again, and he leaned forward to nibble Dean's ear. “Mine.”

Dean nodded his head, hands going up to card through the silky soft of Cas's feathers. With lust clouding his mind there was no hesitation before he responded, “God, yes, yours.”

Castiel's body heated up at the words and at Dean's hands paying such good attention to his wings, and he let out a small growl. Dean continued to cant up into his hips and Cas's dick felt like it was about to explode, but he hung on. Because god, he wanted to make this moment, covered in sweat and precum and his body draped over Dean's, last as long as it possibly could.

“Dean, I- I'm so close, we need to slow-” Dean ignored his warning and sped up his hips, making Cas cry out in absolute bliss. His arms were shaking as his hands gripped Dean's shoulders in a hold tight enough to leave bruises, trying his hardest to hold on. 

Dean's fingers caught in his feathers and suddenly, they were both cumming.

Their bodies sped up the thrusts and groans as they both climaxed, the pleasure invading Cas's every pore as he rode the endorphins. It seemed like his dick was pumping all over the place forever until finally it gave one last, final twitch and Cas's muscles relaxed, him not having even realized he had tensed. 

Dean was first to move, smiling and eyes glazed with what could only be described as affection as he pushed Cas to the side, standing up and stretching out his muscles. 

“That was great.” He let Cas know. “Do you... Do you want to go take a bath with me, or...?”

Cas thought. Hot water would really do amazing on his sore and spent muscles right now. “Yes.” He responded, slowly standing up. Dean lead him to the bathroom.

~~~ 

Two months later, Cas climbed into Dean's bed in the dead of night.

Dean rolled over and mumbled at the shift in weight, his arms tightening around the pillow he was attached to. Castiel waited a few moments, getting up his courage before he shook Dean's shoulder.

“Dean,” He hissed, pressing on him. Dean mumbled something before one of his eyes just barely cracked open in the dark. “Dean, wake up. I'm horny.”

Dean rolled over and let out a huff that sounded suspiciously like a laugh. A few moments went by before he sat up, pulling Cas into his arms and kissing along his shoulder. 

“And what do you want me to do about it, Castiel?” Dean questioned, learning not long ago that Cas's full name had an effect on him. Cas shuddered.

“I want you to put your dick in my ass.” Cas said, holding his breath for the response.

They had done almost everything at this point, except for that. A small part of Castiel had been resisting the want, denying the temptation, until now. Now, he was certain that was what he wanted. He had spent the last thirty minutes trying to convince himself otherwise, and he could not come up with a single valid argument. He wanted Dean in every way possible.

“Are you sure, Cas?” Dean asked, his voice filled with concern. Cas nodded his head, breath hitching as Dean sucked yet another mark into his neck. His entire body was constantly covered in them.

“I'm sure, Dean. Please, I need you inside me.” Cas said. He could feel the change in the air as he felt Dean's dick rise to the occasion, pressing against the cleft of his ass.

“If you insist.” Dean said, flipping them over. 

“Hand me the lube.” Dean requested, gesturing to the bedside table. As Cas's hands were closing around the bottle, he was slowly sinking down Cas's body. Cas passed it to him, eagerly awaiting whatever was to come next.

He wasn't expecting it when Dean's mouth encircled his cock, but it was a welcome surprise. 

He slowly sank down, tongue tracing the veins of Cas's length before coming back up, agonizingly slow. He gave a small suck and Cas moaned, hands coming down to grab Dean's hair and guide him to move. He wanted to be fucked, but this was pretty damn appealing, too.

A finger, wet and a little cold, pushed at his entrance. He hardly noticed with the sinful actions of Dean's tongue, but still shuddered when it pushed in. The feeling was uncomfortable, but he had faith that what was coming would only get better and better. 

A second finger was slipped in almost immediately, adding a bit of a stretching sensation to the mix. Again it was mostly ignored in favor of watching Dean's head bob eagerly up and down, taking him all the way to the base smoothly before giving a small moan.

Slowly, the finger began to move. Cas could feel that it was a little pleasant, but nothing like what he was expecting. The two fingers scissored in and out and he relished the burn, knowing that even if this wasn't all it was chalked up to be he would want to do it for De-

He cried out, his hips thrusting down on the fingers as something inside of him was  _stroked,_ causing his dick to twitch and head to cant backwards. Dean smirked around his dick, and Castiel hated him a little bit for how smug he was. 

A third finger joined the second two, and suddenly, it didn't feel like it was enough. Cas wanted more, he wanted Dean inside of him and making him cry out, he wanted Dean to bottom out and stretch him out. He tried to demonstrate this with whines and moans, but Dean seemed intent on taking his dear sweet time with the prep. 

Finally, when Cas felt like he couldn't take the probing fingers and the sweep of Dean's tongue any longer, he pulled out and pulled off of Cas's dick with a wet  _pop_ , and Cas slowly forced himself to relax. Dean had mentioned that if they ever did this, Cas would want to relax so that it would hurt less.

Dean put a hand under his hip with the intention of flipping him around, but Cas grabbed his arm, stopping him. He looked intensely into Dean's eyes and said, “I want you to see my face when I cum. I want to look into your eyes as you sink into me.” 

“Oh, Cas,” Dean said, partially to hide just how affected he was by the words, “You're such a poet.”

He smiled as Dean hooked one of his legs over his shoulders, the sweet burn and stretch of muscles causing him to quake in anticipation. Dean's already slickened cock lined up with his entrance, and he felt his muscles twitch around nothing, aching to be filled with Dean's member.

Dean started to press in, and Cas pressed out against him. The burn only increased how badly he wanted this, how much he wanted Dean inside of him, and he let out a loud and wanton moan once Dean was fully seated, hips flush against his ass. He rolled his hips immediately but Dean ignored him, turning his head to press kisses into Cas's ankle.

“God, you're so hungry for my cock.” Dean said, beginning to rock his hips. Having Dean inside of him was making Cas harder than he thought possible; every place their skin touched was alive with a kind of passionate fire that nothing could match. “What would you do if I just sat here, if I didn't move? I bet you'd cum just from me rocking like this.” He said, moving his hips just a little to emphasize his words. 

“Yes, I would, but I'd also think you were an asshole.” Cas snapped back, clenching his muscles down around Dean. Dean's face morphed into a painting of pleasure beautiful enough to sit on the walls of a god, his kiss-swollen lips parting. 

“I'll just have to prove to you how kind I am, then.” Dean said, once he had recovered. Cas's other leg was grabbed and pushed up as Dean hunched over, preparing himself to begin movement. Cas leaned forward and brushed their lips together.

He started to move, excruciatingly,  _painfully_ slow. Everything, every nerve in Cas's body felt like it was on fire. He let out a long moan and arched upwards, crying out louder as Dean hit his prostate.

Dean moved a little faster, his throbbing cock never failing to hit it's target head on. His hand snuck down to grasp Cas's cock and pump in time with his movements, now becoming a little rougher and more what Castiel was craving from the demon. 

“If you don't stop touching me,” Cas gasped out, throwing his head back as Dean hit his prostate again, just as his thumb pressed over the head of Cas's dick, “I'm going to cum long before you will.” 

“That's the plan.” Dean growled, pumping Cas faster. Cas barely had time to register what that meant before he was cumming all over the place, and Dean didn't stop.

Cas barely had any time to recover before Dean's pace had resumed to regular, and his oversensitized prostate was being rammed into once again. The pain mixed with pleasure had him squirming and crying out, his dick hardening yet again in a matter of minutes. 

When Dean's hand was back on him again, it felt like too much. It hurt a little bit, it felt so damn good, Cas couldn't find the words to describe how it made him feel to be worshiped and touched in such a way. It made him feel  _high_ . 

Dean's pace was absolutely ruthless soon enough, faster than he had been going before and harder, rougher, sending sparks of pleasure-pain through Cas's body as he absolutely claimed his ass, making sure that Cas would never be able to sleep with anyone else without feeling it a dull experience. 

And really, Cas had let himself fall into belonging to Dean like one falls into a current that drags you under. He was drowning and yet at the same time he felt  _alive_ . There was no going back from this, and he damn well knew it. Dean was going to be a part of him for the rest of all eternity.

Dean's hand squeezed on his dick, and Cas gave a  _sob_ . God, everything felt good and bad and right and wrong and his hips were working furiously with Dean's, breath coming out in shuttering gasps and broken moans as actual tears came from his eyes, Dean kissing them away with those beautiful lips. Cas wanted to cum so badly, wanted to tip over the edge and wanted Dean to fill him up with his seed.

He was burning. He was burning so hot and the fire would only be quenched by shoving himself back into the current, back into Dean, where he  _belonged._

He screamed as he came, his orgasm working through him akin to an electric shock. Everything felt too much and not enough at the same time. Somehow, he was coherent enough to feel Dean empty his seed into him, to hear the moan of his name.

That pride reared it's head again, the pride of making Dean cum. 

A few moments later, Dean collapsed beside him. Castiel tested his muscles, shaky and tense, and found that he would probably be able to stand, though there was no way he could deal with anything touching his cock right now.

He began to slip from the bed, but Dean stopped him with a hand on his arm.

“Stay.” He said, both a plead and a command. 

Cas didn't know what he was doing, but he embraced it. He lay down with Dean and allowed arms to be wrapped around him, and he snuggled up against him and let out a long sigh. Dean's hands carded through his hair, and for once he was too spent to get hard from the gentle touch. 

“I will, Dean.”

“Cas?” Dean questioned, his hand going up to touch the cool metal of his collar.

“Hmmm?” Cas asked, feeling himself about to fade off to sleep.

“Always come back to me. Promise me that, please.” Dean said, toying with the clasp that Cas couldn't get off past the warding. 

“I promise.” Cas said. There was a small _click_ , and the collar fell onto the bed.

~~~ 

Cas was gone almost first thing in the morning. Dean stared at the doghouse idly, wondering if he'd made the right decision. Because now, with Cas gone, he would have to kill again.

He thought of how needy and desperate the angel sounded, and he felt his stomach drop. He wondered if that was only to trick him into releasing him, now that he was gone. Dean berated himself for the thought.

He had captured Cas. He had done things that were unspeakable, all of his life, killed and mutilated and hell,  _kidnapped_ . The last being only Cas, but still. Cas had had the  _right_ to fly away. And although he felt horrible having him gone, Dean knew he had done the right thing.

He couldn't blame him.

A week later, he was making dinner when he heard something, a small fluttering. He put down his spatula, having just finished the burgers, and turned off the stove. 

He fought the urge to go and check, trying to remind himself that he'd left some papers on the table, and that they had most likely gotten knocked over. He tried to push down the hope that threatened to claw it's way out of his chest.

Castiel had left a week ago. Dean was hungry and tired and hadn't had sex since, he hadn't been able to get past the overwhelming sadness that happened whenever he tried to take anyone to bed. Somehow, they all ended up  _too much_ like Cas or  _not enough_ like Cas, it was absolutely maddening.

Dean was a little bit scared he was going to whither away, even though he knew that, conceptually, something like that was impossible.

At least he could indulge himself in human food until this funk was over.

When he was finally ready to go and sit in front of the TV, he walked out and almost dropped his plate.

Castiel sat, his clothes folded beside him and an unwarded collar around his neck. 

Dean sat the plate down on top of the coffee table, immediately grabbing Cas's face and kissing him until both of them were panting and tongues were dueling and hands were wandering and-oh  _god_ yes, Cas moaned into his mouth in  _just_ the right way.

“How-- Why--?” Dean questioned, still a little breathless. He pulled enough away that he could see the collar on Cas's throat, a small black thing that suited him just fine. Written on a metal pendant that sat perfectly on the dip in between his collar bones was, “Dean's”. 

Cas paused, thinking of all the things he could say. He hadn't been able to get away from the other angels for a week since they had assumed he was dead when he didn't come back, he had to give himself time to process what had happened, he had began to fight against the side of himself that wanted this again for too damn long.

Out of all the possible explanations that flooded his mind, the only thing that escaped his lips was a short, clipped word that meant more than the rest of them combined.

_“Loyalty._ ”

 

**Author's Note:**

> Please comment/kudos?


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